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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26321440">A Tale of the Tookland</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist'>LeastExpected_Archivist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Humor, M/M, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2002-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2002-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:56:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,001</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26321440</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>By MJ.</p><p>Two nervous young hobbits finally pay a long overdue visit to Pippin's parents.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Merry Brandybuck/Pippin Took</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Least Expected</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Tale of the Tookland</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at <a href="http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected">Least Expected</a>, which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile">Least Expected collection profile</a>.</p><p>Disclaimer: These characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and his heirs.  I have merely borrowed them for these  adventures and will never make a cent from them.<br/>Story Notes: For those interested in such things, every Took in this story sounds vaguely Scottish.  This follows <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26321497">Bells and Candles</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
Merry and Pippin stayed at Bag End for two more days.  But on the third, they rose early for breakfast, hoping to reach Great Smials with plenty of time to spare.  It was almost a party, for Frodo had outdone himself by serving no less than two different types of sausage, three different egg dishes (including one even Pippin had never heard of), sweetoat bread toasted over the kitchen fire (with four different kinds of jam, raspberry included), two different kinds of tea, and, to top everything off, Sam brought in a large basket of deep-fried batter cakes with three different kinds of filling.  All in all, it was so pleasant and so much fun that both young hobbits were once again hard-pressed to keep to their schedule.  But they had a good twenty miles or so to cover, having decided to head cross country from the Great East Road and come upon Great Smials from the back entrance.  So, with many a hug and the promise of a Greenrill invitation, they packed a handsome lunch, mounted the ponies, and were riding past the last gate in Hobbiton by no later than nine o'clock on a bright, sunny morning.   

</p><p>
They set a brisk pace and for a long time put aside all worries as they rode through the beautiful countryside of rolling downs, old forests and broad meadows.  The first part of their journey took them through immense open woodlands, where the colors of early Autumn were peeking through the broad green canopy in splashes of orange and red and gold. Here they could loosen the reins and laugh and shout, while the ponies stretched out their chunky legs, cantering like colts in the springtime through drifts of fallen leaves.  

</p><p>
Once past the woodlands, they slowed to a pleasant ground-covering trot, winding among the outlying  fields of the Tookland, where late fall crops were bursting through the fences in every direction.  Trotting side by side down the country roads, they talked of Frodo and Sam and how marvelous life had become for all concerned.  And then they sang the longest pub song they could think of, trading off verses and discovering new and spectacular harmonies for the somewhat startling refrain.

</p><p>
Lunch was celebrated in a cozy dell, where the sun shown warmly through a screen of oak and pine.  There was cold chicken, asparagus with Sam's own special sauce, a packet of ripe plums, two huge slices of blueberry and corn pudding, and a large jar of apple cider.  By silent consent, no discussion of the upcoming meeting with Pippin's parents was mentioned and they devoted most of the time to chewing and drinking and paying Sam and Frodo the most exemplary compliments they could devise.

</p><p>
By mid-afternoon, the road took its last turn and carried them straight to the stables at Great Smials, a row of three interconnected banks whose innards housed the immense system of halls and rooms that had been occupied by Tooks (and their various and sundry relations and acquaintances) for the last 350 years.  Turning the ponies over to a stable lad and hoisting their packs upon their shoulders, they stepped onto a broad clipped lawn where no less than a dozen tweeners were learning the complicated steps of The Plowman's Quandary, lit by the rays of the afternoon sun.    

</p><p>
Pippin stopped to watch for a moment, brows drawn into a frown.  "Everything's going to be different, isn't it.  You won't just live at Brandy Hall and I won't just live here any more.  We'll be more like...visitors."  He looked down at his toes, shaking his head a little.  "If I'm even allowed to visit."  

</p><p>
"And I say you are a damn silly Took."  Merry grabbed a handful of curls at the base of Pippin's head and tugged gently.  "This isn't a death call we're making here.  Really, cousin.  I don't doubt it'll be very much like it was with my own parents.  I mean, they can't really throw you out, can they?  It's been done too many times and you always come bouncing right back!"  

</p><p>
But Pippin didn't laugh.  With a heavy sigh, he turned to Merry, his face anxious and not a little worried.  "I just wish it were over.  And everything was said and done, and fine or not so fine, and we could just go back to the cottage and be together and just...  Oh, you know what I mean, Merry."

</p><p>
"I know."  Merry smiled and straightened the collar of Pippin's jacket. "So let's get this over with.  Then we can have a marvelous supper and put all of our worries behind us."       

</p><p>
Pippin drew in a deep breath and slipped his arm through Merry's.  "Did anyone ever tell you that your head's on right side up, cousin?"

</p><p>
"Only my father and he was well into his cups at the time."

</p><p>
"Then it doesn't count and I shan't vote, because if I think any more about your head, I <i>will</i> kiss you."  And he tugged Merry up the flagstone path to the door, a big round yellow one, propped open in the fresh evening breeze.     

</p><p>
Not a soul was in sight as they stepped into the hall, but a burst of laughter told Pippin all he needed to know.  "I wonder what she said this time?"  He shook his head and called,  "Mother?  Guess who's come home?"

</p><p>
Merry snorted.  "You might have to spot her three guesses..."

</p><p>
Pippin lifted his hand, but all thoughts of the swat he meant to deliver were indefinitely postponed as Mistress Eglantine Took came bustling down the hall, staring from under a wild frizz of curly hair. In a swirl of skirts and petticoats, she halted in front of Pippin and smiled.  "Well, well and well!  I believe you are one of my children, yes?  But who's this other one, he's not mine, too, is he?"  She cocked her pretty head.  "Why no, he looks far too much like a Brandybuck."  Her laughter trilled through the hall.  "Dear Merry, it's been far too long.  Surely a week at least!  Far past time for me to learn a new word.  Jam, dear?"

</p><p>
Startled, Merry looked down at her hands.  In one was a large jar of jam, in the other, a silver soup spoon.

</p><p>
"Yes, ma'am, thank you.  But..."

</p><p>
"Mother, you didn't..."

</p><p>
"Oh, dear.  Oh, dear.  Don't tell me."  Mistress Took lightly tapped the side of the jar.  "I've forgotten the bread again, haven't I?  Wait here!"  She turned round smartly and bustled back up the corridor, spoon and jar leading the way.

</p><p>
Merry hooked one arm round a handsome old halltree and laughed softly. "I do love this place.  It keeps me on my toes."

</p><p>
Pippin rolled his eyes and grinned.  "Growing up here was not a piece of cake!"

</p><p>
"No, because you would have eaten every crumb before it was cool in the pan!" 

</p><p>
"Don't you dare...!"  Pippin hastily swallowed the rest of what he'd meant to say and stared back up the hallway.
 
</p><p>
Mistress Eglantine came to a stop in front of them once more, a little out of breath this time, and with a very thick slice of new bread balanced lightly upon each hand.  "Here we go.  One for you and one for you."  Once they'd each taken a slice, she folded her hands and beamed. "There is <i>no</i> such word as 'peckish' in <i>this</i> Hall."

</p><p>
Pippin took one look at Merry, then grabbed his arm, hauling his cousin hurriedly behind his back.  "Mother?  Eh..., you seem to have forgotten the jam."

</p><p>
Mistress Eglantine looked bewildered for a moment, then clapped her hands together with a delighted laugh.  "Oh, have I?  I'm so sorry.  I'll go fetch it right now."

</p><p>
"Mother, wait!  We really need to talk to Papa.  Is he here?"

</p><p>
"Why, yes, I believe he went to the study, dear.  Something to do with the new cheeses."  She cocked her head, rosy lips pursed thoughtfully. "Or was it Belleweed's nasty old cow.  Nevermind.  I'm sure it was something <i>very</i> important.  Hand me those."  She snatched back the slices of bread and shook them.  "They'll be waiting with a nice cup of tea when you're done."  Then, with a smile as bright as a new-lit candle, she spun lightly round and bustled her way back up the hall.

</p><p>
Still tucked behind Pippin, Merry caught his breath on a last chuckle and slipped his arms around Pippin's waist.  "Jam and jam, everywhere we go, eh?  If it were only raspberry..."  
    
</p><p>
Pippin leaned back in Merry's arms and chuckled.  "Jam for breakfast, jam for elevenses, jam for lunch.  I wish it were time for jam now."

</p><p>
Merry squeezed hard, kissing a clear spot behind Pippin's right ear.  "I'll give you all the jam you can stand later on, my greedy Took.  But now..."

</p><p>
"Yes, now!"  Pippin drew in a deep breath, stepped out from Merry's arms and jerked down firmly on his waistcoat.  "Now we go see who's got more backbone, sassafrass pudding or me."  

</p><p>
They hadn't far to go, for the main bank of Great Smials was arranged somewhat differently than Brandy Hall.  The bedrooms, bathrooms, parlors and school rooms occupied the outer area of the hill, while the kitchens, dining rooms, and meeting rooms ran straight through the middle.  And the Thain's study was set exactly in the center.

</p><p>
Pippin knocked softly on the open door before stepping slowly into the room, Merry hard on his heels.  "May we come in?"

</p><p>
A sharp snort greeted this question, followed by an equally sharp reply.  "Who is it?  And can you help it?  I do hope so!"  Paladin Took, Thain and longtime scion of the amazing Tooks of Great Smials, sat behind a large wooden desk covered with books, papers and pens.  Two deep brown eyes stared up from under a pair of eyebrows so thick and bushy they seemed to have a life of their own.  Those brows now rose as he studied the two young hobbits standing just inside the door. 

</p><p>
"Ah, Peregrin!  My delight, my extravegance, my frightful youngest babe.  Sit yourself in yonder chair and open both of your clever ears to what I have to say."  The hazardous eyebrows waggled fearfully and Pippin heard Merry choke back a snort of laughter.  "As for you, Master Brandybuck, tuck yourself into that damned armchair and no word out of you until I've finished!"

</p><p>
"Yes, Uncle Paladin."

</p><p>
"What?  'Yes'?  Why, upon my word, what's gotten into you, Meriadoc Brandybuck?  No, don't tell me, I'd rather guess.  Only not now.  I've too many things to say.  Eh..."  He pursed his lips and squeezed one eye shut.  "...now what were they?"  The eye popped back open.  "Ah, yes.  You!"

</p><p>
Pippin jumped.  "Me?  Why?  I never..."

</p><p>
"Oh, yes, you have, many, many times.  And I have Auntie Wisteria's diary to prove it!  Young rapscallion.  What was I saying..."

</p><p>
"Papa, if you'd just let me..."

</p><p>
"Have they thrown you out of Brandy Hall now?  Wouldn't suprise me in the least!  All those goats and stripey nightshirts, not to mention the frogs in the laundry baskets...  Are you sitting down?  Fine, my lad.  You just listen up."  He frowned for a moment, then bent over his desk, riffling through a stack of papers before shooting his gaze back at Pippin.  "Been watching you.  Oh, yes!  And young Brandybuck, too.  Though you both move so fast it's a wonder my eyes don't spin right out my head."

</p><p>
"Papa, please let me just..."

</p><p>
"Shhh!"  Paladin raised a quick finger to his lips, then bent back over the desk, shoving his hands into the pile of books and papers and lifting up great handfuls, one at a time.  "I believe I would lose my own arm if it wasn't tied on.  By all that's buttered and fried, it was right here.  Ah!"  He pounced, then raised his hand and shook the long piece of paper in the air.  "See this?  It's a letter.  From the Master of Brandy Hall, no less.  Ha!  And well you many jump, you..."  He stared at Pippin, then shifted over to Merry.  "Came two days ago.  And what do you suppose he says?"

</p><p>
Two pairs of eyes gazed at him, unblinking.   

</p><p>
"Me first, is it?"  The Master of Great Smials sat back in his chair, stared a moment, then lifted the letter up to his face.  "Very well."  He cleared his throat.  "'Dear Pally, you old...'  Ah.  Skip, skip, skip...  Here we go."  He cleared his throat once more, glared over the top of the letter, then began reading.

</p><p>
"'Your Peregrin will have told you the news by now.  It took a bit of getting used to, but it's not as if it were totally unexpected.  But what <i>was</i> unexpected was the part dear old Aunt Fressy played in this whole thing.  I knew, of course, that Seredic's place was empty, but not that she would choose to turn it over to the lads with such happy timing.  Remember that cozy little cottage up the Oakbarton road?  Greenrill, it's called.  They're set up quite nicely, now.  The acreage is in very good shape and your Peregrin will end up with a fine crop come spring...'"
  
</p><p>
Master Paladin let go the letter, which floated gently to his desk.  "Let me guess.  Two days at the cottage and two with Master Baggins, at least."

</p><p>
"Um, three.  At the cottage..."  Pippin's voice trailed off.  He folded his hands in his lap and smiled weakly.

</p><p>
"Yes.  And a house.  You already have a <i>house</i>.  The both of you."  Paladin's eyebrows drew together.  "Together."

</p><p>
"Um, yes.  From Great Aunt... Fresythia..."

</p><p>
"Uh huh.  Old Aunt Fressy.  Strange as all getout and make no mistake about it.  Why, I remember when Saradoc and I gave her that yellow..." He stared for a moment, then snapped his mouth shut.  "Nevermind that." His sudden shout made them both jump.  "Egg, my dear, come see!"    

</p><p>
In a matter of seconds, Mistress Eglantine bustled into the study, slipped lightly round the back of her husband's desk and settled herself on his knee.  "Yes, dear?  What have they done now?"

</p><p>
He kissed her round rosy cheek.  "All sorts of things, my love, and every one of them more cockeyed than the last."

</p><p>
"Oh, good.  Please tell."  She patted his hand, then smiled at both young hobbits.  

</p><p>
"Well, Egg dear, they're going to live in a cottage.  Keep house together.  Raise cock and bull stories or some such."

</p><p>
"Really?"

</p><p>
"Yes, my dear.  Pearl's and Pimpernel's children will have to do, I'm afraid.  Don't know about Pervinca.  She's got her heart set on that silly Bardo, never heard such a thing..."  

</p><p>
"Bardo will do very fine for our Percky.  You'll get used to his hair very soon, I promise."

</p><p>
"I don't doubt I'll have to.  But my dear, I expect you've got something to say to all of this cottage and domestic bliss nonsense?"

</p><p>
"Well, of course I do."  She turned her clear blue eyes toward the two frazzled young hobbits.  "I say it's about time."

</p><p>
Pippin opened his mouth, shut it.  Then opened it wide as his jaw dropped.  

</p><p>
"Oh, yes, my boy."  Paladin shifted a fistful of Mistress Eglantine's curls gently out of the way.  "As your mother so cleverly says, it's about time.  You are quite unmanageable.  Your mother tells me this at least twice a day and I've come to believe she's got the right of it.  Young Meriadoc seems to be more than capable of surviving your adventurous nature.  At least, his recuperative powers appear extraordinarily sound."  The eyebrows shot up beneath the fringe of curls and disappeared.  "Now.  If you can sit still a bit longer, I shall tell you a thing or two and then I expect you and Master Brandybuck to tell us a very long tale, which must include birthday cakes, green chickens and the preposterous Great Aunt Fresythia."  

</p><p>
It was well past sunset when all was explained and laughed over (and cried over for a short time, as well) and the immediate future discussed.  The last great weight was now lifted from the hearts of both young hobbits, leaving them almost dizzy with relief.

</p><p>
"You'll come to me tomorrow afternoon, the both of you, and we'll talk a bit more about beer and business.  But now..."  Paladin kissed his wife soundly on the mouth and set her on her feet.  "I am famished, dear Egg, and so must the lads be."  He came around the desk and pulled both young hobbits to their feet, wrapping their hands in his strong, warm fingers.  "You know I love you both, no matter how much sleep it may cost me."  He squeezed gently, then let go and smiled, eyebrows standing at quiet attention.  "It will be a disappointment to several young lassies I know of, but no doubt you'll discover how to explain." He frowned suddenly and tapped Pippin's cheek with one long finger.  "May I remind you that blushing is never allowed in Great Smials?  If it were, this place would be overrun with Spring Sweetstems on legs!"

</p><p>
Pippin gave a great shout of laughter and leaped on his father, squeezing until the elder Took groaned in protest that his eyes were about to pop out of his head.  Then Mistress Eglantine and Merry were both grabbed and kissed by father and son until the supper gong sounded in the distance. 

</p><p>
Mistress Took clapped her hands together.  "Do you know, I think we shall <i>all</i> have a bit of bread and jam to celebrate."  She turned to go, but Pippin's voice stopped her.

</p><p>
"Mother, is it...  I mean, what kind of jam are you going to use?"

</p><p>
She cocked her head and thought a moment.  "Why, I believe I shall ask Cook for a jar of her best raspberry..."

</p><p>
And then she looked at her husband in startled amazement as her son gave a shout and threw his arms around Merry, and they both dissolved in fits of laughter.  


</p><p>
End.</p>
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